Sitting in front of me
Don?t look away. Don?t avoid my eyes.
Why do you talk and talk and not let me rest in your pupils? Look at me, please.
Now, although your eyelids are semi-open, I succeeded. I stare in your eyes; slide down slowly the slide that leads to your inside and enjoy it. Your eyes are light-colored but the sensation is that I pass through darkness, looking for what is hidden. There is something more, I am sure.
At that moment everything blurs; your nose doesn?t seem so big and hooked; your lips have lost their appeal that had made them simply irresistible. Now, sailing through your gaze, I don?t want to kiss them.
You keep on talking, meanwhile your docile tones become a whisper; they are not words but an enchanting melody.
What a power!
What a connection between our two souls!
Can you feel it as I do?
Now, free from mind and reason, my hands on your face, touching your angular face, pull it gently to mine.
I feel the need to seal this connection, together forever. How good do your lips taste!
Your gaze, have you ever stared in my eyes?
Have you seen my inside? I am not sure.
Sometimes I think you feel scared, and while I keep on sliding toward the deepest place hidden inside your pupils, you keep on talking, talking without stopping.
Keep quiet! Stare at me!
I stare at you. I am quiet.
Lisbon 2 am. All that is described above happened in my imagination, in a light sleep from which I awoke to write down all the details before they faded. Thank goodness I write really quickly in my smart phone.
How many times do we stare at each other?
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